


Help With the Pain

by JustAFigmentOfYourImagination



Series: Nelson and Murdock Short Stories [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: And he feels guilty, Before Foggy found out, But you can read it that way if you want to, Foggy's a concerned friend, Friendship, Gen, Matt's still lying to him, Not explicitly Matt/Foggy, injured matt, set in early season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAFigmentOfYourImagination/pseuds/JustAFigmentOfYourImagination
Summary: Matt sustains some injuries during his night job. When he limps into the office the next morning, Foggy is concerned.





	Help With the Pain

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be a series of one-shots surrounding Matt and Foggy. I should have some from their college years, their time as interns at Landman and Zack, throughout season 1, between the seasons, throughout season 2, post season 2, during The Defenders and beyond. Some will be more on the funny side, and some will be more serious, because I love these guys and their friendship (and I need them to be friends again in season 3). You can totally interpret them as romantic or just as friendship, whatever you prefer. I don’t currently have any plans for stories that explicitly make them a couple, but I’m not opposed to it if I come up with a good enough idea. Just friendship is absolutely fine too, though. I hope you guys enjoy. This story is sometime in early Season 1, before Foggy finds out that Matt is Daredevil.

Matt was aware that he was limping very slightly as he walked down the street towards the office. He was trying to stop, but his leg seriously hurt. His walking stick wasn’t designed as a cane to help support his weight, but he was using it more for that this morning than he was to search the pavement in front of him. He needed to get a grip on himself and just start taking the pain. He couldn’t limp into work like this. It was going to be hard enough to explain away the bruising on his face and the stitches on his forehead. He didn’t need to make the situation worse.

              He had gone out last night, just to patrol a little, make sure everything in the neighborhood was okay. He hadn’t been looking for trouble. He had, of course, found trouble. And it had not gone super well. He had won, in the end, but the fight had left him beaten and bloody. The pain had not receded much by the morning. He really hadn’t wanted to get out of bed, but he couldn’t skip work without rousing the suspicions (and concerns) of Foggy and Karen. So he had forced himself to get up. Getting ready had taken twice as long as it usually would because he was moving slowly to avoid aggravating his injuries, and now he was running late. He had even resorted to taking a small amount of pain medication (he _hated_ the stuff; it made his head fuzzy and dulled his senses, making it much harder to get around and making him feel much more blind than he normally did), but it wasn’t helping. This was going to be a long day.

              As he approached the office, he used all his willpower to lessen his limp as much as possible, putting all the weight he could bear on his injured left leg. It was better, but he was still limping very slightly. It was the best he could do, though. He would just have to sit down as much as possible that day and hope that Foggy didn’t notice. He went inside and slowly made his way up the stairs to their door.

              Foggy’s voice greeted him. “Matt, there you are.” He said. He was standing at the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. “Sorry, that’s the last of it. Karen just went out to get more. If you weren’t here by the time she came back, she was going to go to your apartment and look for you. What held you up?” He turned around, and that was the first time he looked at Matt properly. His face instantly morphed into one of alarm and concern, and he put his cup down. “My god, Matt, what happened?”

              “It’s nothing.” Matt dismissed lightly, hastily turning away and starting for his office. “Sorry I’m late, I overslept.”

              “You’re limping.” Foggy said immediately before Matt had gotten more than a couple of steps. Matt sighed and stopped. Foggy walked over to him. “Seriously, what happened to you?”

              “Nothing happened, Foggy.” Matt said. He felt Foggy move next to him, and lay his hand on Matt’s shoulder, which unfortunately he had also pulled rather badly the night before. He flinched automatically at the gentle pressure of Foggy’s hand, and silently cursed himself as Foggy immediately pulled back and tensed with obvious concern.

              “Don’t give me any of that crap, Matt.” He said sternly. “Something must have happened.”

              Matt shook his head and continued to his office (allowing himself to limp more obviously now, since there was no fooling Foggy at this point), practically falling into his chair with a pained grunt. “I’ll be fine, really. It’s not that bad.”

              Foggy followed him into the office. “Did somebody do this to you?” He demanded. When Matt didn’t say anything, he took that as an affirmative and said, “Who was it?”

              “A couple of muggers.” Matt said. This was not a lie, strictly speaking. It had been a couple of muggers. He just hadn’t been the one getting mugged.

              “Seriously?” Foggy cried. “Holy shit, Matt. You need to report this to the police.”

              “I did.” Matt said, again only sort of lying. He had left the muggers for the police after taking them down.

              “Why didn’t you call me?” Foggy asked. “I would have come to help you!”

              “The muggers didn’t exactly give me a chance to call a friend for backup, Foggy.”

              “Of course not, but after! You shouldn’t have done it all yourself. Did you even go to the hospital?”

              Matt shook his head. “It really isn’t that bad.”

              “Really? Because it looks like they beat you to a bloody pulp. You still should have gotten some help. I mean…did you do those stitches yourself?” He demanded.

              Matt self-consciously brushed his hand over the stitches on his forehead. “I told you, I used to do it for my dad all the time. I can do stitches, it doesn’t matter that I can’t see anymore.”

              “I know, but…holy _shit_ , Matt!”

              “Look, I’m going to be okay.” Matt insisted. “I’m just a little sore, that’s all.”

              “Just a little sore? Why do I get the feeling that’s a massive understatement? Did you even…wait, did you take a cab here, or walk this morning?”

              “…it isn’t that far a walk.”

              “Are you trying to kill yourself?” Foggy demanded. “Or me? Is that it, are you trying to kill me? Because I swear, Murdock, you take at least ten years off my life.”

              “I think that’s an exaggeration.”

              “I don’t think it is, actually.”

              Matt hear Karen a moment before she opened the door. “Foggy, I got the coffee!” She called.

              Foggy leaned back and stuck his head through Matt’s door so he could see her. “Matt got mugged last night.” He said.

              “What?” Karen hurried over, and gasped when she saw Matt. “Oh my god!”

              Matt was beginning to feel like he was losing control of the situation. “Honestly, guys, I’m _fine_. Don’t worry. It happens.”

              “You should have called.” Karen said fretfully.

              “There’s nothing you guys could have done. I just wanted to get some sleep.”

              “Who mugs a blind guy, anyway?” Foggy asked, thoroughly disgusted at the thought. “How low is that?”

              “Maybe they’re equal opportunity muggers.” Matt said dryly.

              “Oh, ha, ha, ha.” Foggy said sarcastically. Maybe he could sense he was starting to tread on Matt’s nerves, however, because he said, “Okay, fine, we’ll leave you alone. But do you need anything?”

              “Nothing at all.” Matt replied. “Just maybe don’t ask me to walk around too much today.”

              “Deal.” Foggy agreed. He started to go, then paused and asked, “They didn’t get too much off of you, did they?”

              Matt frowned, confused. “What?”

              “The muggers.” Foggy said. When Matt continued frowning, he went on, “Traditionally, you know, muggers mug people to get, you know…money.”

              Oh, right. “Oh yeah, um, I didn’t have much on me at the time.” Matt said quickly. “They only got a couple dollars. Maybe that’s why they were so angry, huh?”

              “Good.” Foggy said. “It’s bad enough they beat you up like that. Don’t need them bankrupting you too.” He walked out of the office, ushering Karen along with him. Matt heaved a deep sigh and sat back in his chair. Hopefully he had averted this crisis, and they wouldn’t ask any more questions.

**000000000ooooooooo000000000**

**That Evening**

He took it back. The pain medication must have been doing something, because the pain had only gotten worse since it had worn off. By the end of the day, Matt wanted nothing more than to curl up on his bed and never move again.

              Foggy appeared in his doorway as they all packed up to leave. “Come on.” He said. “I’m escorting you home. You shouldn’t be out there alone again, not tonight.”

              Matt didn’t have enough energy to argue with him. “Fine.” He agreed. If Foggy was surprised by his immediate consent then he didn’t show it, and Matt was too distracted by the pain to read more into him. He stood up slowly, trying not to groan, and tested his leg. He hissed as pain shot through it, and resorted to just limping as he grabbed his bag and his cane. Reaching out to grab the bag was a bad move, however, as the pain in his right shoulder became so intense that he actually had to stop in his tracks and compose himself, swearing harshly under his breath.

              “That bad?” Foggy asked, taking a step closer.

              “I’ll be fine.” Matt grunted.

              “Uh-huh. And I play baseball with the New York Yankees.”

              “Foggy…”

              “Come on.” Foggy said, linking his arm with Matt’s good one. “I’m not leaving you alone like this. You’re coming home with me.”

              “You don’t have to-“

              “Shut up. And come. With. Me.” He gently pulled Matt along, ignoring his stuttering protests and being careful not to hurt him. Matt sighed and eventually surrendered, following Foggy outside and letting him get them a cab.

              When they got to Foggy’s apartment, he told Matt to sit down on the couch. “What hurts the most?” He asked as he set their bags down.

              _Everything,_ Matt thought with a grimace, but he said, “My shoulder.”

              Foggy nodded to himself without thinking, then remembered and said, “Um, okay. I’ll get you something.” He disappeared into the kitchen, and then returned a moment later and sat down next to Matt on the couch. “Here, frozen peas.” He said, placing the cold bag in Matt’s hands. “They make a good ice pack.”

              “Thanks.” Matt said. He grinned. “I didn’t think you liked peas.”

              “They’re purely for medicinal purposes.” Foggy informed him, and Matt snorted with laughter.

              “Right. Well, thanks.” He set the bag down and started taking his jacket off and loosening his tie. “Do you mind if I…?”

              “No, go ahead, it’s probably a good idea.” Foggy said quickly as Matt started unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it off, and Foggy looked at his injured shoulder. He took a sharp breath at the sight of the large purple bruise covered most of it. “Jesus, Matt.”

              “I think it probably looks worse than it is.” Matt said as he pressed the frozen peas to the bruise, wincing a little at the intense cold against his skin.

              “I certainly hope so.” Foggy said. He got to his feet. “You hungry? I have some leftover Chinese food I was going to heat up, there should be enough.”

              “That would be great, thanks.” Matt said. “And, Foggy?” He added before Foggy could walk away. “Thanks.”

              Foggy smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” He said. “You’d do the same for me.”

              “I would.” Matt said. “Really.” He sighed and sat back as Foggy left for the kitchen. Guilt was starting to eat at him for lying, for not telling Foggy the truth about what happened even after he was going out of his way to help him, but he forced himself to ignore it for the time being. He was getting disturbingly good at that, he realized. That was something he would have to think about.

              For the time, though, he just wanted to relax with his friend and have dinner. Like old times. The pain seemed a little more bearable when someone like Foggy was there to distract him.

              His thoughts were broken by the sound of Foggy’s voice as he walked back in. “Hey, I have some pain meds. I know you never liked taking any, but these are special circumstances. You want some?”

              Matt sighed. “It’s harder for me to get around when I use them.” He admitted. “They make me go all…fuzzy.”

              “Which would be bad in this situation how?” Foggy asked. “Don’t worry, man, you don’t have to go anywhere.”

              “I know.” Matt said quietly. “I just…I don’t like it. It makes me feel…” He trailed off, aware that Foggy was waiting, and then finally said, “…blind.”

              He waited for a moment, and when Foggy spoke, it was gentle, understanding. “Fair enough.” He said. “What about beer?”

              “That I would be fine with.” Matt agreed. “Thanks.”

              “No problem. Just do one thing for me, okay? Don’t make a habit out of this. I mean it when I say I worry about you. Karen does too. And I know better than most that you can take care of yourself, but it’s hard not to worry when you show up at work with mysterious bruises and go around getting mugged late at night. Just try to be careful, alright?”

              Trying not to think about how his plans probably meant a lot more mysterious bruises, Matt forced himself to grin. “Yes, Mom.”

              “Partner.” Foggy corrected. “Same difference, really. Anyway, I’ll get the food and the beer.” He walked away again, and Matt relaxed slightly, allowing a small, more genuine smile to appear on his lips. He knew there were rough times ahead, but times like this were what made it worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated, as are story ideas (although I make no promises about which ideas I actually write). Hopefully more to come soon.


End file.
